For Never Was There Such A Tale Of Woe
by PisceanPal23
Summary: A teenage girl is found beaten and close to death after coming home from a play practice of Romeo and Juliet. Through adversity at the lab, can the team catch the crook?
1. Change Of Face

**Hey hey, it's me again with another installment of this series which is yet to sport a name...and probably never will...but that is neither here nor there. This is a fanfic belonging to me, unlike it's characters, it's setting, or anything like that. Heck, I don't even own the computer in which this is being typed. OK, seriously, appreciate this please, I had to deal with a little kid who doesn't know how to stop talking to write this...OH SWEET GOD...HAVE MERCY...Urgh, okay, venting done...okay, enjoy b'ys...Happy New Years and what not:D**

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_ It was early evening as a teenage girl walks along the street near a large school. She quietly recites her lines to herself as she turns a corner towards the familiar park, which houses a shortcut home. She carries a large bag with her on her back, and a script in her hand. She does not notice the children with their parents in the swing set, as they play carefree. She seems unaware to the world around her as she loses herself in her thoughts. She meets a boy of her own age carrying papers of his own on the path to which she greets and stops to talk for just a minute. Then she sets off again into the darkening night through a wooded boardwalk, oblivious of the fate that will come to her…_

**CHAPTER 1: CHANGE OF FACE**

"WHAT?!" The team said incredulously to the face of their supervisor. The break room was stunned at what was just said. Nick and Greg's mouths fell open, Catherine and Sara stared penetratingly, and Warrick still could not comprehend it.

"Now stop that," Grissom said putting up his arm, "Let me finish. I said I was leaving, but not forever."

"Where are you going?" Catherine asked worriedly.

"Ecklie has me on a suicide mission."

Greg smirked in spite of himself. "Doesn't that mean that you wouldn't be coming back anyways?"

"Shut up Greg," Sara said punching him in the arm playfully. Greg grunted in pain. "Just because we're dating doesn't mean I won't hurt you, Sanders. Let Grissom finish."

"Thank you Sara. Now anyways, Ecklie has been informed by his superiors that we need to send someone to the schools about Nevada. This means that Ecklie has informed me that I need to go to some schools about Nevada and speak about Criminology."

Catherine eyed him suspiciously. "But you hate public speaking."

"Did I not say suicide mission? Anyways, I will be gone for two weeks. In the meanwhile, my position will need to be filled."

"Who is getting it?" Nick questioned. "Anybody here?"

"If I could choose it, yes, it would be someone here, but that's not in my jurisdiction. The state has informed Ecklie also that they will be sending someone to fill my place. His name is Charles Scoot."

Greg looked forlornly at him. "Oh no Griss, you didn't…"

Grissom turned to the young man. "Why shouldn't I have done Greg? Do you know this guy?"

Greg sighed. "You could say that. He worked with me in San Francisco, lazy creep, always blamed others for his messes, and through kiss-assing made his way to a supervisor position. He always made working there miserable. I don't know how the other CSI's dealt with him there."

"I guess there's an Ecklie everywhere." Warrick said. Just as that sentence finished their Conrad Ecklie came through the door with someone behind him.

"Gil, have you told them yet?" His slim face and hooked nose made him seem more menacing than he should have been, but just the mention of his name made people at the lab cringe.

"I just finished." He replied simply.

"Good", he said. He moved out of the way to reveal a man of about forty with coal-black hair and wrinkled face. His eyes were slits, his nose hooked like Ecklie's and ears that were very small. He was about 5'9", and he was a fair size of a person, far beating the rest of the Graveyard shift in weight. "Say hello to your new supervisor for the next two weeks, Mr. Charles Scoot." A mumble of almost inaudible welcomes met them. Then there was silence for a half a minute. "Well," Said Ecklie, feeling the tension growing, "I'll leave you to get acquainted. Gil, you need to be off, your plane leaves in an hour."

Grissom nodded, and turned to his team. "I guess I'll see you when I get home. You guys stay out of trouble, okay? I don't want to lose my best CSI's." Everyone nodded in a silent promise to Grissom. "Oh, and my last duty," he added opening his folder. "Here are everyone's cases. Catherine and Warrick, you get a DB on the outskirts of town, pretty straightforward as far as I can tell. Nick, you get a break and enter on the strip, and Greg and Sara, you get an assault on a teenage girl at this address. Sofia will be waiting at the scene." Each took their slip of paper, and headed out to get ready. Charles, whom will be referred to as Charlie, was also making an exit when Grissom grasped him on the shoulder. "I'd take care of my CSI's if I were you."

Charlie smiled a crooked smile with yellowed teeth. "Is that a threat, Mr. Grissom? If you're leaving, I don't think you're in that position. That team looks mighty interesting, 'specially the brunette and the blonde. I think I recognize them both…"

"If you do anything to get them in trouble or otherwise harm them, I'll make sure you know the consequences."

And before Charlie could reply, he left to follow Ecklie.

"It is him," said Greg hitting his head against the passenger side dashboard. "I thought maybe it was just someone else but it is him."

"Really Greg, is it that bad?" Sara asked as she made a left turn towards a wooded parking lot. "I mean he didn't seem _too _bad."

"That's what he does, Sara," whined Greg. "He sucks you in, and then he strikes! I swear he's evil. And he is an idiot, and a cheap swindler, and…"

Sara laughed. "Come on, sweet Sanders, we're here." She kissed him, hushing him as he relished her touch and smell. He hated the nickname, but it sounded like heaven coming from her, and she only used it when they were alone. "It'll all be okay. It's only for two weeks."

Greg gave her a sweet smile, and kissed her back. They both got out and headed to their kits, and then to Sofia. Greg looked over at his girlfriend and thought about how much she had changed in only a few months. With just a little bit of tender treatment, Sara had seemed to forget all her mental scars and let down her shield. "Hey Sofia, what's the deal this time?" He said as they approached the detective.

"Early this morning a jogger was making her laps through this path in the park when she saw something sticking out of the bushes. When she grabbed a stick and poked it, it twitched and moaned. That's when she called paramedics. They've already arrived and taken the body. It's a teenage Jane Doe…no ID yet. Here's where she was found." Sofia gestured to a spot on the ground that was caked in blood. The grass was displaced and leaves from nearby foliage were displaced. A large bag was thrown down to the side; it's contents strewn across the nearby area.

"Messy scene," Greg commented.

"Uh-huh," Sara agreed. "Well, I guess our first priority is to process this area. I'll take this place, the blood and the leaves and nearby area."

"I'll take the bag and clothes?" Greg questioned. Sara nodded. "But…someone needs to check on the girl. We need to collect a rape kit and all that stuff…"

"Sanders can do that," Came a voice from just behind them. They turned around and Greg groaned inwardly at the sight of his new supervisor. "I'll look at the bag and clothes with Miss Sidle."

"Is that such a good idea?" Sara said, eyeing Charlie sceptically. "I mean, isn't it wise if a female were to ask a female victim questions, especially if she was raped. It's just more appropriate for a woman to go."

Charlie screwed up his face in distaste, but then smiled wickedly. "Yes, quite right Miss Sidle. Sanders, take pointers from this girl. She was a great CSI back in San Francisco."

Sara gasped a second later. Greg looked to her to see if she was all right, but she was blanching. "I know you, don't I?" She asked. Charlie nodded. It hit her hard. "You worked with me at the Crime Lab at San Francisco…but soon after you were transferred there, I was transferred here."

Charlie nodded again. "Very good, Sidle. I'm pleased you remember me. I'm sure Mr. Sanders remembers me as well, right?" He gestured towards Greg who, with gritted teeth, nodded. "Ah, then getting to know my new team will be very easy indeed. Sara…may I call you that?" Sara simply nodded once. "Then Sara, please go to Desert Palms and deal with the victim. Sanders, deal with the clothes and bag, I'll take Sara's job. Go."

Sara took a long last glance at Greg, and then walked back to one of the officers who would escort her to the hospital. This glance did not go unnoticed by Charlie however. Greg sighed, and walking a few steps, dropped his kit and said, "Well let's get this started then."

Charlie never said anything, and that was fine to Greg. The less he had to speak to that man the better. But before long, Greg heard the dreaded voice. "So Sanders, how has your work been here? You haven't screwed up in the field yet like you did in the lab?"

"What are you talking about?" Greg replied icily.

"You know what I mean. It was you, who blew up the lab, wasn't it? It was such an outrage that all the crime labs this side of the USA heard about it."

Greg bristled at the accusation. "You know that it was Catherine, not I, who blew up the lab? And it was an accident. The burner was switched on by accident."

"Yeah, yeah." His taunting reminded Greg of a toddler. He did not even seem to acknowledge Greg had said something. "When I heard that it was in Las Vegas, I knew it had to be that Greg Sanders fool who blew up the rig."

Greg grunted and totally engrossed himself in his task. It seemed to shut up Charlie for the time being. He took photos of every article of clothing multiple times, and then carefully inspected it. They seemed completely odd to Greg. Inside was a very old, though beautiful, style dress, pale pink in colour with a sparkling gold strip of fabric running down the sides and meeting at the hips where it joined and ran down the middle. It seemed to have a few layers. There was also a matching pair of dainty slippers and a band for wrapping about the head. Greg pondered the reason for having it, but deemed it better to wait. Had Sara been there with him and not Charlie he would have asked her opinion.

Greg also cast about for anything else. Scattered a few feet next to him was a few water bottles, an extra change of clothes, and a make-up case. Greg documented these also, and then got up. There was no way he could get any fingerprints off of the surrounding forest. He glanced about again, and to his glee found a pair of deep shoe impressions ground into the dirt, hidden behind a large tangle of brush. As he took the impression, he also noticed that there was a piece of something on the ground. He collected this also, and with a grimace, he turned to Charlie.

"I processed this part. Think I saw where the attacker hid. What'd you find?"

Charlie sneered at Greg's complete ignorance to his taunting, but replied, "Well, I collected blood, and trace samples of hair, and I found this." He held out to Greg a thick document of paper. Greg made to take it, but Charlie whipped it out of his reach. "It's a script for a play. Romeo and Juliet. Seems like the kid was a budding actress."

"This could lead us to who she is. It also explains why I found an old style dress in the stuff that came from her bag." Greg looked to the sky as darkness shrouded them. Dark clouds were gathering.

Charlie grunted. "I suppose." A gust of wind blew through the area, causing Greg to shiver in the unexpected coolness. Charlie beckoned to the Tahoe. "Come on, let's get back to the lab. Maybe what Sara has collected will help us any. Meanwhile you start on the ID of our vic."

Greg nodded and followed obediently. _"Maybe he isn't so bad after all." _He thought to himself as he and Charlie drove back to the lab.

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**I hope this isn't too short...seriously, believe it or not, once school starts again, I will have plenty of spare time to write...haha, wow, that's not twisted at all. Okay, hang tight, and reviewing makes me feel better...so review:) I'll try and have a new one up...I dislike making people (if they are reading that is) wait for a new chapter. So, yeah, enough of this monologue! Until later people:D**


	2. Death Lies On Her Like An Untimely Fro

**CHAPTER 2: DEATH LIES ON HER LIKE AN UNTIMELY FROST**

Greg sat in the break room looking over what little they had on the case. With everything still being analyzed in the lab, Greg could only look over case photos. His mind was still trying to comprehend the possibility that he may have been wrong about Charlie Scoot. He had at first acted like a jerk, trying to intimidate Greg with his experience with the lab explosion. But Greg had showed he wasn't to be a pushover, and he had ceased. Greg took a long swig of bottled water out of frustration.

"Thirsty Greg?" Greg turned and saw Sara in the doorway, folder in hand. Greg grinned a bit. "I just got back from the hospital."

"And…?" Greg goaded her on.

Sara sighed. "I got all what I needed. I documented her cuts, got a DNA sample for reference, rape kit, and fingernail clippings, but it doesn't look good for the girl Greg." She plopped herself down onto a chair next to him and leaned on the table with her elbows. "She's got a lot of internal injuries. Blunt object, numerous hits. It was definitely a crime of passion. They don't think she's going to make it."

Greg sighed. "We can't change that, but we can get justice for what has happened. That is truly our job in the end. If she dies, then we can extend the full punishment on this guy." He rubbed Sara's shoulder in a comforting motion. "It'll be fine. We can't change things."

Sara nodded and leaned against Greg's shoulder. "I agree." After a few minuets she got up. "Thanks Greg." She leaned in and gave him a short kiss on his cheek, unbeknownst to watchful eyes. Then, turning professional again, she pulled out her folder. "Okay, here's what I know. The vic is in her teenage years, about sixteen or seventeen. There were a few small white particles all over her body…crystal in form. I didn't have a microscope to check what it was."

"Sounds like ice crystals." Greg said. "I know it isn't, but hey, it is pretty chilly out for Las Vegas."

Sara smiled. "I sent that, along with everything else I found and collected to the lab. What did you find over on your end?"

Greg shifted to get at his folder on a table set up alongside the larger main one. "Well, we're waiting for the results back on almost all we recovered. I found some strange clothes strewn across the field. Look at this."

He handed Sara his crime scene photos of the clothes strewn across the ground. She flicked interestedly through them, eyeing the clothing. "We also found a script for the play Romeo and Juliet. What do you make of it?"

She shrugged. "Looking at all of this, I'd say that our vic is an actress…to a degree, anyways. These clothes look like they come from the age of Shakespearean literature."

Greg grinned in realization. "That means that the school she goes to is probably putting off a production…if we look at the schools in that area, we'll possibly find out who our vic is. It's strange that no one has identified her yet…not even her folks?"

"I agree." Sara walked to the door and waved her hand towards it. "Come on Greg, let's go school hunting. First we'll find schools in that general area, and then we'll do a little footwork."

Greg nodded excitedly. "Awesome, but when we find the school, I get to drive." Sara shook her head at his light-heartedness and started to drag him out of the lab by the sleeve. They were on their way to the room with spare computers when Greg's pager went off. "Oops." He spun around the opposite way. "We got results back on the stuff Scoot and I collected. Come on, let's check it out." Sara shrugged and turned to follow Greg. A right turn and left turn brought them to Hodges.

"What do you have for us?" Greg asked as he entered the lab with Sara at his toe. He quirked his eyebrow up when he saw Hodges sitting at the table looking at pictures of butchered animals.

Sara was flooded with memories of rotting pig carcasses. "Uh, Hodges, what exactly are you looking at?"

He looked up from the screen. "Oh, there you are. Scoot gave me orders to say he was busy and couldn't join you guys. I processed that small brown thing you collected. It was beef jerky. And trust me, it's very salty. Salt is all over it."

"Jerky?" Greg questioned. "The culprit must have gotten the munchies while waiting for his prey. Did you get any epithelials off of it?"

Hodges shook his head. "It was on the ground for too long. It was probably a piece that was broken off in the pack and fell to the ground. So Sanders…" He continued in a more mocking tone. "I heard that you know the new boss…and that you and he don't get along."

Greg's eyebrows furrowed a little. "How do you know that?" Hodges was about to answer but Greg continued. "It's none of your business, but if you must know, back at San Francisco we did not cooperate, but I think he may have changed for the better." Hodges was taken aback. "What else do you have?"

Hodges shook himself out of his stupor. "Oh, yes, well…" He harrumphed. "I processed the rest at the scene…the results are in this folder." He wheeled over to it, and retrieved it. It seemed he wanted to end this conversation. "Sara's evidence is yet to be processed. That's my goal now. So much to do, so little time." Sara sighed heavily at Hodges…he tried to hard. "I'll page you when I'm done."

"Thank Hodges." Sara said, as she dragged Greg out of the lab. When they were in the A/v Lab alone, Sara started to speak. "What did you mean he's changed for the better?"

Greg looked at her. Her tone was sharp and low, sounding more like a hiss that unnerved him. "Well, when you left, he tried to intimidate me, but when I ignored it, he left me alone and was bearable."

Sara glared at him. "Did you not see at all what he was up to?" Greg shrugged helplessly lost. "He has more objectives than meets the eye. He knows the both of us, and as I recall, when I worked with him he was a complete bas…"

"What?" Greg said aghast. "He said he was at the lab with you, but he worked on a case with you?" He was quiet. He saw how defensive Sara was getting and was afraid she would relapse into inner seclusion. "What did he do?"

Sara turned her head to the side and sneered. "He is a horrible man, Greg. If you ever saw him around women, you would understand. He is a bastard, and a boar. He is completely vulgar." She stopped, and looked back to her computer where she was browsing school sites. "That's why I didn't want to stay at that scene with him. I refuse to trust him alone."

Greg realized with horror that this man whom he had passed off as a harmless threat actually made Sara scared, made her fear. He saw Sara was not too enthused to talk more, so he turned back to his own computer and said, "Sara, I'm here, so he won't dare to try something. I'll protect you from him. Always. I'll never let harm come on to you."

Sara smiled at his sweet gesture. "Thank you, Sir Gregory. How noble." Then with seriousness, she added. "But it's okay. I'm a big girl who can handle herself."

"I know." Greg could find no more words so they worked soundlessly for a few more minutes before he called out to her. "Hey, Sara, I found it!" She walked over to him, leaning on his shoulder to see the screen. "Here, on the drama site for Garrow Street School, an advertisement for the play Romeo and Juliet, starring Carlos Pewter as Romeo and Kristy Gating as Juliet."

Sara gave a confident grin. "I think we have it. Come on noble Romeo, lets check out Garrow Street School and see if we have our girl."

Sara pulled up to the school parking lot and walked with Greg at her side into the building. Garrow Street School was fairly large, and was a very sophisticated brick colour. Some of the school was done completely in a tinted glass that gave it the appearance of a classy hotel ballroom. The front courtyard was bare, but immaculate, with not a piece of garbage to be seen. Greg and Sara walked inside and met with the secretary who's office was perfectly placed near to the entrance, and they were directed to the drama class. Greg and Sara walked into the back of the stage in the auditorium, the place dubbed 'the drama room'.

Greg looked about with wonder at the place. The dingy room was alive with bustle of kids running back and forth finishing tasks for the their next production. One girl ran past the two crime scene analysts carrying an armload of clothing, which resembled the dress Greg had found, and never went unnoticed. Other kids were painting scenes of the balcony, and creating prop rapiers. In the midst of all of this was a thin man that had a moustache and sported a very serious black outfit, topped off with a very stereotypical beret.

Sara approached him while Greg started to mingle with the more laid-back kids. "Hello sir, I'm Sara Sidle. Are you the drama teacher? And if you are, are you preparing for the play Romeo and Juliet?"

The man looked at her. "Yes, I am the leader of this theatre, and the name is Mr. Trent Pathorn. As you can see from the props being made over there", he pointed towards the kids painting a stony pattern onto wood, adding foliage in the recurring pattern, "of the famous balcony scene that yes, we are indeed preparing for the production of Romeo and Juliet. Why do you ask? Do you wish to attend it? We go on in just under the week. Here", he said, grabbing a leaflet off of the table, "Here is all the details to our play."

Sara took the leaflet and examined it carefully, taking extra measures to not smudge the fingerprints that the man had unknowingly offered to Sara and Greg. She looked up from the paper only when the man, who seemed already on edge, stamped his foot and groaned in frustration. "Is something the matter sir?"

Mr. Pathorn looked at her angrily. "Yes, as a matter of fact, there is, Mrs. Sidle. I only have a few days to get everything in tip-top shape and one of my star actress' is missing!" He lifted his arms and dropped them hard in anger.

Sara reached into her folder. "Well sir, I'm not here to check for air times. My _partner_", she emphasized to correct his earlier misconceptions in called her a Mrs., "and I are from the crime lab. We are investigating the brutal beating of a girl that was found not far from here. We can't identify her. Is this her?" Sara handed out the photo to him.

He took it, and the instant his eyes hit the girl who lay beaten and broken on the hospital bad his eyes bugged, and he gasped. "This…this is her! My Juliet! Oh no…" He said completely stunned from the sight of the girl. He sunk into a nearby chair clumsily, in a horrified daze.

Greg was too far away with other students on the other side of the stage to notice, but the kids nearby had started to gather. Sara feared compromising the case, and causing a panicked uproar. "Sir, I need you to tell me more, it's very important. Please, do you have an office where we can talk further?" He nodded in a stupor, and like a zombie, led her to a small office on the side of the stage. The entered the room lit by a single overhead light, and Mr. Pathorn walked to the chair opposite the door, and sat wearily. Sara also seated herself, and taking out her notepad and pen, she asked again. "Mr. Pathorn, who is she? What is her name?"

Trent Pathorn rubbed his temples in one hand. He took a steadying breath. "That is Kristy Gating. She lives just across the park from here, on Plover Street. She was an aspiring actress, she loved the theatre and all to do with it."

Sara nodded in comprehension. "When did you last see her?"

"Around 5:30 p.m. She had left a few minutes after I dismissed everyone form practice. She stayed behind and asked me about her lines. She was very dedicated to her work. I have to ask…is she…?"He struggled with the question, so Sara finished for him.

"No sir, she is alive, but I don't believe that she will make it. The severity of her injuries is too great." She paused, letting what she had just said sink in. "Can you give me her address? Someone needs to contact her folks." Silently, he told her what the street number she resided in on Plover street. "Thank you sir. I'm sorry for the loss of your actress…I'll be in touch with any more news on her condition, and please, can you keep quiet about this to your kids?"

"Of course, I can't have my students getting in an uproar so close to showtime! I'll just alert her understudy, Louise Lopaz, to get ready and that Kristy is ill."

Sara smiled and bid her good-byes to Trent Pathorn. Once out of his office, she cast about for Greg, but did not see him anywhere. She turned her head to a redheaded girl who was sitting down at a table, drinking a bottle of water. "Excuse me." The girl looked up at Sara. "Have you seen a blonde man around here? I need to know where he is."

The girl nodded as she bit into a granola bar. "Yeah, he went out into the hallway about two minutes ago, said he was waiting for his partner. That's you, I'm guessing?" Sara nodded. "He was hanging out with us and talking when his cool pager went off."

"Thanks kid," Sara called as she walked out into the hallway to join Greg. She opened the large steel doors that marked the auditorium to see Greg leaned against the wall, looking very distraught. Sara walked over to him with concern. "Greg, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Greg looked up, and even though he looked very concerned, he smiled in a defiant way. "I'm fine…for now anyways."

Sara looked at him, annoyed that he spoke cryptically to her when something was obviously wrong. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Greg shook his head and chuckled nervously. "I'll tell you later Sar. Right now, where are we headed?"

Sara arched her eyebrow at him, but decided to let it slide…for now. She pulled out her file and said, "To 498 Plover Street. We're going to meet Brass there and have a talk with the family. Maybe they know something."


	3. Fortune's Fool

**Here it is, eveyone. My next chapter...hehe, I'm quite proud of myself for the chapter names...lol, they're quite witty of me if I do say so myself...even if they are from Shakespeare. It just fits with the general theme, so I went for it. God, if Im slow in the upcoming weeks to February, please be patient, because really, mid-terms are coming up and I have a bio test before that, so yeah...school bites:S. Anyways, here is the next chapter:)

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CHAPTER 3: FORTUNE'S FOOL

Mr. Gating met the trio at the door, looking charily between each until he saw Jim's badge and Greg's investigator vest. At those signs he sighed defeated. "You know where my girl is?"

"Mr. Gating, my name is detective Jim Brass, this is Greg Sanders and Sara Sidle from the crime lab. I do think we've found your girl."

Sara stepped up and offered a picture to him of the girl in the hospital. With a stony expression, he looked upon the picture. Betraying no emotion, he handed the picture after his gaze lingered on it a bit longer. "That's Kristy. What happened to her?"

"We need to have a chat, so we'll discuss everything with you. May we come in?" Wordlessly he sidestepped, and allowed the three to enter the house. Mr. Gating led them to their kitchen where he offered them coffee and tea, to which only Greg gratefully accepted a cup of orange pekoe. While waiting, Greg wrung his hands nervously, and it ate Sara up inside to know he was keeping something from her. Greg, seeing her frustration, mouthed the words, '_Search the girl's room'_, to her. Sara glared at him without a smile, making him cower even more. However, as Mr. Gating came near again, she silently slipped upstairs unnoticed.

Mr. Gating placed the cup of steaming black steeped liquid in front of Greg, along with milk and sugar. He spoke up to the two. "Now, what do you need to know about my daughter?" He paused momentarily. "Wait. First I need to know something."

Greg sipped precariously at the scalding tea while Mr. Gating spoke, and answered, "You're daughter is alive." He sighed in relief, but a stern look from Brass ushered him to speak the hard truth. "But she isn't doing that well. She suffered greatly at the hand of her attacker, and she may die soon."

The relief that washed over his face was momentarily turned to one of pure dread. And it instantly made Greg feel horrible for stringing him along, if even not by choice. "I see." He said quietly, his voice quite opposite to his large mass of a body. Mr. Gating wasn't a fat man, quite trim more factually, but was a massive height, and he towered over Brass and Greg. "I will now answer your questions when you tell me where she is so that I may see her after.

Brass nodded. "She's staying at Desert Palms. Now," He said retrieving his notepad and pen. "When did you last see your daughter…?"

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Meanwhile, Sara searched the room of Kristy Gating, her thoughts slowly drifting from Greg's problems to her own, and to her job. She sifted through everything painstakingly, but all she came up with was that she was really into acting, and that she had a potential love interest. Love letters splayed across her bed in a messy fashion, as if she were sorting them. Sara heard a static sound from behind her, as the computer sprang to life when she knocked into the desk. Appearing on the screen was her blog. Sara smiled. _'How fortuitous'_, she thought to herself. She seated herself into the chair next to the computer, and began to scroll down, reading her entries.

Mostly they contained entries about her interest in acting, and in how much she liked her boyfriend, who was currently starring opposite her as Romeo. Then, in an entry dated to nearly a week ago, she wrote despairingly about how the boy, his name apparently being Carlos Pewter, had gotten a nasty allergic reaction and was unsure he was able to do the play. She write how she was dreading starring against his understudy, because he was a, 'weird kid'. Sara took down the site name, and she also took notes and photos of everything else she saw as useful pertaining to the case. She bagged the letters, and made her way downstairs, just in time to see Greg and Jim making ready to leave the house. Sara joined them in the porch, hearing Brass give the usual, 'we'll let you know if we need to talk again", speech. Brass went his way, back to the station to await his next case, while Sara and Greg piled into their own vehicle.

Their trip went smooth, memories of Greg's nervousness erased from Sara's mind as they chatted about what they found, Sara telling him of her findings, and then Greg told her about what little information the dad had managed to give them.

"We know why she was in the park for sure now." Greg started. "It's a shortcut from school, so she takes it everyday. But today, she never got home, and the dad never reported it because he just assumed she was over at a friend's house, reciting lines. She was a devoted actress and she loved Shakespeare. Pretty good combo if your part of Romeo and Juliet."

"Yeah, I'll say, especially if your love life is involved. Apparently her boyfriend is playing Romeo." Sara talk fell short as a hard rock song stared to play. She turned to the radio, but it was turned down. Then with a grin she saw Greg rooting about his pockets for his cell phone. "Leave it to you to have Marilyn Manson ring tones Greg."

Greg grinned back, and finally managed to grab his cell phone. Looking upon the caller id, however, he cursed lightly and flicked his cell phone off.

Sara, not tearing her gaze off of the road, knew something was wrong, and her suspicions came back again. "Greg, who was that?"

Greg's previous nervous demeanour returned, and, twiddling his thumbs as he did so, started to speak. "Sara, I'm in trouble."

Sara started to get a hint of reproach in her voice, making Greg feel like hiding in a ditch. "What kind of trouble Greg?" She changed her tone for her next sentance. "What's wrong sweetie?"

Greg answered back, "Remember in the school? Well, I had just gotten all my observations from the kids, and I'd gotten a call on my phone. I went out and it was Mia."

"What did she want? She didn't have any of our evidence bumped to her, did she?"

"No, but it's not good at all. She was suspended for three days, unpaid leave."

"What?!" Sara said with shock. She wasn't expecting that at all, and it still puzzled her.

Greg remained quiet as he spoke, the same breaking voice he had had when he had to tell Grissom of his family situation. "Charlie Scoot made the call to suspend her. And now he's been trying to call me. I know what he wants." Sara never made a sound. She knew too. It need not be said. "He wants to get me away from you."

"You should know better," Sara said with a harsh edge. "Greg, do you KNOW how much trouble you'll be in when he gets a hold of you? He'll crucify you!"

With a rueful smile, he looked at her. "I know exactly what will happen to me." A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. "But it's all worth it to stay by your side." They parked in front of the Crime Lab, but they sat there still, looking into each other's face. Greg's eyes flared with a mix of emotion Sara thought she would never see dwell there. Passion. Defiance. Care. Hate? And she was the cause of it all…it was for her he felt passion, felt he needed to care for, and defy and hate Charlie Scoot for her. Part of her enjoyed it. Another was not prepared. This outpour of emotion from him scared her, but made her feel safe. _How the heck is that? _She wondered, and then the abrupt feel of Greg's lips against hers made the answer clear for her.

She, too suddenly felt an extreme rush, like adrenaline, pour through her veins. It was deep affection; love, for this man who held her in such high regard that he would chance his career? She deepened the embrace, running a hand through his hair. They had shared passionate kisses before, but this one…meant more. It was a symbol not only of their love, but loyalty and commitment. They broke off the kiss for their need of oxygen, but their foreheads still touched. It was a nuzzle they both liked, for it's closeness, it's sensations. Sara's eyes met Greg's, and she whispered with seductiveness and unadulterated want she never knew she possessed, "I want you."

Greg's soft eyes widened, and he broke their connection with a huge lop-sided grin. He leaned in and whispered, "Not on company time, hot stuff." He leaned back quickly and exited the Denali, leaving her smiling to herself. She too got out slowly and helped bring in the evidence they had collected. Greg was a bit ahead as she heard him call out to the sky. "Why, oh why, do we still have to be on shift? Oh, I am fortune's fool!"

Sara laughed out loud to his clownish antics, and ran to meet him. They entered the lab, but as soon as they came to voices, he stopped, and mouthed to her to hush. She understood why. When the coast was clear, the two of them tiptoed to the next safe place that hid them from sight. Both Sara and Greg could not keep from giggling. "Stop Greg! This is ridiculous! We're supposed to be mature!"

Greg looked to her; his lop-sided grin hadn't left his face since their encounter in the Denali. "Doesn't mean we can't have a little fun. If I can stay away from Scoot, I can stay on the case with you and not be put in DNA, like I know he wants to do. It's like any childhood spy game, and I'm the ultimate child. Will you be me hot spy Angel?"

Sara grinned madly. "Sure, as long as I'm not Charlie's," she said referring to the man she and Greg despised. Greg laughed at the pun, but quickly quieted. Sara peeked her head over their current hiding place, behind Judy Tremont's secretary desk, which to their great satisfaction was now unoccupied. "Come on, the coast is clear. To the A/V Lab, I think I see Warrick and Archie."

Greg nodded, and in a split second, they jumped into the A/V Lab that was situated across the hall from them. However, graceful as they weren't, the ended up in a jumbled heap on the floor, Sara on top of Greg, both still laughing, while Warrick and Archie just looked at them like a five headed monster. Sara kicked the A/V room door closed, and when the giggle fit subsided, Greg finally managed to sputter out, "Hey babe, I thought I said not on company time."

This started them on a whole new fit of giggles when Warrick had finally had enough. "What the heck are you at?"

Sara had made her way off Greg and was brushing her jeans off. "Well, we're basically fugitives in our own workplace," She offered. According to Warrick and Archie's faces, it wasn't a big enough offering. So it prompted the telling of the events leading up to this point, told in tandem by a very hyped up Sara and Greg.

"Well, you can't avoid him for two weeks man," Warrick stated. "What are you planning on doing?"

"Not avoid him forever, just until this case is over. Then, I don't care. As long as Sara is safe from him I'm perfectly content. Catherine too." This prompted a stick in the ribs and a comment about subtlety from Sara.

Sara cleared her throat. "Well, I'm still not on the run, so I'll go log in this evidence. Is that okay?" Greg nodded. "You stay hidden here until I get another clue. Archie…" Sara started, but she was cut off.

"Don't worry about it guys. Working here on your case is no problem."

Sara smiled. "Thanks Arch." She scurried off with evidence and notes in tow to log it in.

Greg produced an mp3 player from his pocket, waiting for Sara to get back from logging things in. Sticking the phones in his ears, he became instantly oblivious to things around him, including the chatter from Warrick and Archie.

"Well, Sara seems more…high, recently, doesn't she?" Warrick stared at him. "I mean it…like, I know it isn't drugs, I know better…but high on life. She seems more spirited, happy."

Warrick laughed. "That's what happens when you hang with Greg. The kids an addictive drug." He paused, and looked at Greg banging his head to the music and playing air guitar. "I think Sara needed this drug."

* * *

"So this is what we know." Sara started when she got back. She sat with Greg at a small table, only a small lamp illuminating their work while Archie was on break. Greg looked at the case file interestedly. "At the scene, you and Scoot found old style clothes belonging to Kristy, and a play script that led us to finding out who she was, where she was last seen and by whom. Also, we have a bunch of new people to question."

"Uh-huh," said Greg, taking his turn to add a comment. "And, her online diary brought us down to only a few suspects. I believe," he said pausing to sip at a smuggled cup of coffee Sara had brought him, "that the one we're looking for is part of the production. Think about it. The girls had motive, because Kristy was Juliet. Some of the boys may have been jealous of her standing in the cast also."

Sara nodded. "I think there is more to this than we're getting. We need to figure what our list of possible suspects are, and start dwindling them down to smaller groups. Then, if we can get a little bit of incriminating evidence, we can surely get a search warrant.

"A good start would be a weapon," Sara continued upon further thought. "Think about it. Did you find anything in the park?"

"No," Said Greg thinking back. "Nothing. The attacker must have taken the weapon with them."

Sara shook her head. "I don't know." She placed her chin in her hands thoughtfully. "We don't even know what we're looking for."

"You may." Nick came in, a manila folder in his hands. "I'm surprised nobody told you."

"Told us what, Nicky?" Sara said, rising from her position at the table. "What's in the folder? Is it only for your eyes?"

"I wish." He handed her the folder. "It's an autopsy report, courtesy of Doctor Al Robbins. Your most recent victim died. Her body was sent to the coroner here for an in-depth investigation, and here are the results. Doc. Robbins also said that if you want a second opinion, go to him."

Sara snatched up the folder, and opened it, revealing its contents to her and Greg, who had gotten up to see. "Thanks Nick." She said. He saluted and headed off his own way, seemingly uninterested to their reason to be held up in the A/V Lab.

Greg turned to her. "Your wish has just come true." Sara questioned him with her look. "Doc. Robbins can make an indent of your weapon and give us a clue as to what we're searching for." Greg was getting hopeful now.

"We can try." Sara did not hold out much hope.

"Meet me in the parking lot."

"Why?" Sara asked.

"I'm going to call Brass and get something set up." Greg said as he looked about the hallway. "I want to go back to the school. I have a hunch."

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**Thanks to everyone who's reviewed thus far. And to those who have not...if there are any more...feel free to do so...hint that means, read and review...lol. **


	4. Tempt Not A Desperate Man

**Yeah, you know the drill...new chapter, please enjoy, I don't own these people, nor their town, or this computer...I'm too busy to write. The usual, eh? But, I am disappointed that I'm coming up with ideas not up to par with what I want. Alack and alas, my eagerness to get my next story written (which will be better) has left me drained to finish this one. But I'm no quitter, I'll get it done. Hopefully, no one hold this story against me. So, anyways, here it is;)

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CHAPTER 4: TEMPT NOT A DESPERATE MAN

This time they knew their way around Garrow Street School and soon both Sara and Greg, who had successfully avoided being caught by Charlie for a whole day until they had had some sleep at home in peace, were seated across the desk from Trent Pathorn, the drama teacher, once more. "Please sir, can't you let us talk with your cast?" Sara pleaded with the stubborn man.

It had been going on like this for almost 15 minutes, her and Greg pleading to speak with the cast without having to resort to threats of the law coming down, but Sara's patience was dwindling. This was also due to the fact that Brass had still ceased to make an appearance. He was their interrogation ace in the hole. "No, please wait until after practice." He attempted to reason. "My group is having a rehearsal with costumes. No one can disturb them. And now, with Kristy dead, the must certainly never find out. It could destroy our chances of pulling this off." His voice broke saying Kristy's name.

This was the final straw for Sara. "Sir, if you do not comply with us now, we'll haul you down to the precinct. Now, I'm sure that the show could probably not go on while you are in jail with a charge for obstructing justice. Am I right?"

Sara seemed slightly amused at the shade of red and purple that formed in his face from the anger and frustration all the disruptions were causing. "Fine," was all he said. He hastily rose and walked to the door, ushering the two of them out as he did. He made his way in the halls behind the auditorium where faint voices could be heard. Then, they entered the darkened auditorium and the voices boomed with projection, and resonated with the excellent acoustics.

Greg was filled with an awe of the acting as he saw it unfold on stage. He had always enjoyed going to the plays that were held in his school, and had appreciated the art of good acting, and in the very scattered time, the music that accompanied it. This time was no different. The group made their way to the front row and sat, watching the young actors and actresses fill the roles of the famous Shakespearean characters.

"Romeo, oh Romeo…" said a girl with long black hair. Sara presumed her to be the understudy that Trent had said to be replacing Kristy, Louise Lopez. She said her line as well as any they heard, even with the little time she had.

"Psst," Sara said, alerting Greg, who was deeply engrossed in the plot. "Greg!" She jabbed him in the arm, which quickly got his attention. He looked her way, and mouthed the word, 'what?' in reply. "Doesn't it seem strange that the girl replacing Kristy as Juliet knows her lines so well?"

"Why should it?" Greg said, not understanding Sara. "She is the understudy. It's her responsibility to know the play as well as the original Juliet. Maybe she really loves this play and learned it even better than Kristy." Greg leaned over Sara and addressed Trent. "What do you know of Louise Lopez?"

Trent snorted. "She is a talented young girl, I shall give her that, but she is a very volatile one."

Greg listened intently. "Really? Care to enlighten me?"

"She is, in short, a diva to the very extreme. She tried to get the role of Juliet, and when she only got the role as understudy, she was very upset. She nearly tore down the whole prop room in her fury. After a while though, she just seemed to calm down, and actually get into the role as understudy."

Greg deemed this news very interesting indeed, and after getting a hiss of his name from Sara, who he was still leaning over, he quickly found his way back to his sitting position in his seat. "What did you find out?" Sara whispered.

"I think we have a viable suspect in Louise Lopez. A girl who gets bitten by the green-eyed monster too many times."

"Maybe…is that the boyfriend?" The second sentence she referred to both Greg and Trent as a tall handsome boy with brown hair entered the stage. He wore tights, and a tunic, and a fake rapier at his side. Despite the case, Sara chuckled when Greg mentioned how Romeo had more courage than he did about wearing those tights.

"Alack, there lacks more peril in thine…" His deep majestic voice was broken short by a scream from behind the stage. Sara gasped in fright, and Greg jumped up ready to fend off anything. The kids on stage starting to panic, and Trent hurried to calm them.

Sara looked to Greg. "What was that?" She was still unnerved by the occurrence.

Greg grabbed her hand. "I don't know, but we better go check it out." He ran towards where they were previously, at the back where the other kids were before busy as bees working on props and costumes. Now, as they approached, they were pale with fright, some almost sick or fainted. Sara looked to one student, who pointed to a cluster of kids. Greg ran into the group, trying to see what the calamity was. Sara tried her best to calm down some of the more shaken up kids. "Uh, Sara…?" She heard Greg say a second later. "I think we have something."

Sara, intrigued, went to investigate what he meant. A shocked expression pervaded her face when she saw Greg tentatively holding a bloody hammer with a lab glove. "Oh my," said Sara, but she soon regained her senses. "Bag it. We need to get it back to the lab when we're finished here. Now!" She said, authority now present in her voice, "Everyone, sit down here."

She waited for all the kids from about the place to gather, and she waited later still until the faculty showed up. "Now, I'm Sara Sidle, and this is my partner Greg Sanders." Greg nodded at his name. "We're here because of an unfortunate event. You're fellow actress, Kristy Gating, was beaten a few days ago. Yesterday, she passed away." The room was sent into a flurry of murmurs. "She was attacked by someone, and we're investigating whom. I would like to ask for complete cooperation. Now, we're all going to stay here until we're through here. Is this understood?" Silence; that meant yes.

Just at that moment, Brass showed up looking crestfallen. Greg was about to ask what was the matter when his heart sank. Behind him was Charlie Scoot, smiling his rotten perverted smile. Yet, when he thought he was in sight, he started a scowl. "Sanders!" Greg cringed. "And Sara," he sweetly added, making Sara frown, "Here. Now."

Sara was about to argue when Greg brushed her arm. "I am fortune's fool," he said solemnly, "don't try and fight my battles hon."

Sara's heart went out for her boyfriend, because she knew what it was like, being on Ecklie's list of naughty ready-for-firing list and all. She did not care. She was going to stick it to Scoot, but she had to think of a way to do it without being insubordinate. _"That's going to be hard"_, she thought.

They went into a secluded area of the auditorium, where Charlie was back on to the pair. Sara seized the opportunity to attempt a last ditch effort to save their hides. She reached into her back pocket and flipped her cell phone open.

"Sanders…" Charlie started. "Sanders, Sanders, Sanders…I thought you had better sense than that. I know you were avoiding me."

"How do you know that?" Greg said with an edge fired by pure hatred. Sara looked at him, trying to get him to calm down and think rationally, but he was far past that stage. "I was just working on the case like I am supposed to, unlike some others I know."

Charlie wheeled around, storming up to Greg and pointing in his face. "Watch your tongue Sanders, or I'll have you on permanent leave. I am your superior, so you report to me. No one else. Understand that?" Greg was silent. This made Charlie even angrier. "Answer me Sanders!" Still, Greg made no move to answer.

"Back off Scoot," Sara said, "Greg is also under my jurisdiction. I am the more practiced CSI. He was following my orders. That's why he didn't see you."

"Sara, please don't stick up for this insolent man." Scoot was calming down, but still had the mocking undertones in his voice. "Sanders, as of now you will report to DNA."

"What?" Greg said with a surprised tone that he did not feel. He knew he was resigned to this fate when Mia had been suspended. "That's not fair! I'm a CSI, not a tech anymore."

"You are being put in that position for not reporting back to me as often as you should." He paused. "You will stay there for the remainder of your cases. I will work with Sara. I'm sure we'll have an interesting time." He licked his lips at stared at Sara. His smile and gaze radiated malevolence.

Sara started to look fidgety and uneasy, and that pushed Greg further. "And if I refuse?"

A chuckle could be heard from Charlie. "You won't dare."

"You think so?" Greg had snapped. He rushed forward and, grabbing Charlie by the collar, pushed him against wall. Charlie seemed completely stunned, but not as stunned as Sara, or even Greg. Greg raised back one fist. "Do you want to tempt me?"

"Greg, no!" This was not Charlie's voice, but Sara's. She grabbed his brought back arm and held it fast. "Don't waste your time on him. He's not worth it."

"You are." Greg still kept his gaze on Charlie, still caught up in surprise. "I'm not going to let him terrorize you and I for the remainder of his stay. No way."

"There are other ways." Greg looked at her, and she held up her cell phone with a smile. Greg slowly let go of Charlie's collar, and backed off. Charlie straightened up his shirt and looked at Sara.

"Thank you Sara. Sanders, you're…"

"Quite finished with this conversation." Sara cut in. Both men looked at Sara who was amusedly smiling. "Phone for you, Scoot." She passed him her cell phone. "It's not local, so be quick, or it'll cost me." She winked and, still smiling, watched the expressions that passed through Charlie Scoot's face. This went on for almost five minutes before Scoot, slightly pale, handed the phone back.

"Well, yes…" He cleared his throat. "Forget what I said Sanders, you're free to work on this case. Miss Sidle…"

"What happened to 'Sara', hotshot?" Sara was enjoying milking the opportunity for what it was worth. But she was not expecting Charlie to become aggressive.

"Now listen here you bitch," he hissed, coming as near to Sara as he could with Greg standing protectively near her, "You may have Grissom here to protect you on work hours, but watch your back. I could come knocking on your door at anytime."

Sara scoffed defensively, but with scared undertones. "Is that a threat, Mr. Scoot?"

He licked his lips. "Maybe." He said so low that only Greg and Sara could hear, and then in a normal voice, "Jim! I'll take the evidence we have here and have it processed. The techs will phone you with anything probative." He stalked to the door without another word.

Sara released the air pent up in her lungs, and slumped against Greg. "That," she said with a smile on the verge of breaking out, "was just way too close for my liking."

Greg chuckled and wrapped his hand discreetly around her waist. "I like a little closeness. It brings adventure." Sara blushed, while Greg continued. "So what in the world managed to change his mind about hauling my hide back to the lab? Was that Grissom on the phone?" Sara's wild grin convinced him he was right. "Nice Sara. You're becoming quite the little espionage agent. I may have had a good effect on you yet!" He winked and grinned, but became sombre again. "But you were right…it was too close. We cannot afford to tick him off too much. Thank you."

Sara looked at him. "For what?"

"You know what. If you hadn't gotten Grissom on the phone, then I would have been lab meat, and granted, that wouldn't have been bad, but I would have withered into a prune worrying about you alone with him."

Sara smiled curtly. "Quite welcome Greg. We can't be having this face shrivel, can we?" She took his face in her hands and scrunched his cheeks. "Now come on, we have a job to do."

Greg sighed. "Unfortunately."

Sara laughed as they walked to Jim who was pacing about the room. "Now, what are we planning to do guys?" Jim said, noticing their presence. "We cannot exactly keep all of them here. We need to do this right."

"Well, the hammer was found here, and it was confirmed that it belongs to the Drama club. That connects someone from the Drama club to the murder, which was expected anyways. What we need to do is isolate the prints from people who had an excuse to have the hammer from those who didn't, and then further investigate." Greg drew in a breath. "That means that we need to get some more pieces to this puzzle yet. Hopefully Scoot will get off his ass and help us."

"Not likely," Jim said. "On the way here, he ate all of my doughnuts!"

Greg chuckled at the older detective's misfortune, and Sara gave a smile. "Well then, lets get started." Sara said. "Brass, get these people into another part of the school, and make sure they stay here. We'll start asking them questions. Make sure you keep tabs on Carlos Pewter, Louise Lopez, and ask Trent Pathorn for the name of the Romeo understudy. Those three have a greater connection to the victim."

"Will do." He said, and then added, "What are you doing, Greg?"

Greg looked to Sara for confirmation. "I think I'm going to be rooting about for more evidence. If the hammer is here, so might something else."

Sara nodded, and rubbed her hands together. "Alright then, let's get started."

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**Yup...cruddy, right? Well, no, but not as good as my others...I had a case of writer's block, and school block-up. They expects me to read a very uninteresting piece of literature for my mid-term exams...God, I dread reading Random Passage...suure, it's all about our heritage, but it's so booooring! Not like Eragon, Lord Of The Rings or A Wizard Of Earthsea...good reading is so hard to find...tis why I come here to read! Anyways, next chapter is going to be hopefully better off, so stay tuned;)**


	5. A Pair Of StarCrossed Lovers?

**Hey, okay, too many plots bouncing around in my head, and I'm helping my best friend with a fic of her own, and I have mid-terms coming up, and I'm SO mad at myself for not writing more!!! So, forgive me people, and here's a new chapter...and, if people wanna check out cool music, INTO THE OCEAN BY BLUE OCTOBER!!!! Haha, I love that song, what can I say? The Chinese Fiddle is so pretty sounding! Haha, okay, random chatter is too much, I'm stopping now:)

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CHAPTER 5: A PAIR OF STAR-CROSSED LOVERS?

And so began the search of Garrow Street School. Greg started where the hammer had been found, in a box of old prop tools. He stretched on the pair of gloves he carried in his vest, and rooted about for more clues, swabbing the blood that had transferred to other tools from the hammer and very interestedly finding a hair in the box. Probative or not, he collected it, and as he snooped about for more, Sara and Brass had taken back the girl who had found the hammer.

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"Why were you going to the toolbox?" Brass asked. "It's near opening night, shouldn't all of the props be done by now?" 

The girl, who was still pale but much more calm now, glared at them and scoffed. "The theatre never sleeps. We're constantly on the run, building and fixing. If you must know, Louise had kicked into one of the props because she said it looked hideous in contrast to her dress. I was sent to repair it. I went to get the hammer and nails, and that's when I saw it." She sighed. "Happy?"

"Now, now, no need to get snippy. We're just talking." Brass said. "We don't believe you did anything, but someone did. Who has access to those tools?"

"No one but the drama club. Only Mr. Pathorn has the keys to here, and to the lock on the toolbox. The locks come off in the morning, and on again strictly when he leaves. He is very careful."

"What can you tell us about Kristy Gating, and her relationships with others in the drama club?" Sara asked.

"Kristy was nice. She's not like the others. She helped with everything, even though she acted. She helped make clothes, she made props." She smiled as if in memory. "She was also a very emotional being. She got very into her role, you couldn't even tell them apart. Convincing is not the word for her skill, it's an understatement. Maybe the fact that her boyfriend, Carlos Pewter, was Romeo helped her inspiration."

"So, is Carlos a good kid?" Brass inquired.

She nodded. "Yeah, he was dedicated."

Sara raised her eyebrow. "To what? Kristy or the play?"

"Both." She paused. "She really didn't like Ray though, or Louise."

"Ray?" Brass asked.

"Raymond Therst, the understudy for Carlos." Sara perked at the revelation. "I don't either, he's really creepy. No one knows him outside the drama club, and he is always quoting Shakespeare and trying to hang around with some girls. Louise is getting annoyed with him already."

"Which girls?" Sara asked, making a connection in her head.

"Well, until she…left, he stuck to Kristy like a second head. Now it's Louise."

Sara nodded. "Thanks, you've been a big help. Now, can you open your mouth?"

The girl opened her mouth to protest, but then, realizing what it was for, opened her mouth obligingly. Sara took the swab and took her DNA. She closed the cap to the swab, and smiled. "Thanks. You can go now. Please, can you send in Louise Lopez now?"

The girl nodded, and left. Sara sighed and Brass looked to her. "What are you thinking Sara?"

"I'm thinking I may have a connection, but I need more information first." A knock on the door made both their heads turn. "And here we start." A police officer led in Louise Lopez, who looked extremely agitated. Brass introduced themselves, but was cut short.

"What the heck do you guys wants? I have better things to do!" Sara tried to intervene, but was also interrupted. "I know my rights. I'll have all of you sued for harassment, and anything else I can sue you for."

"Louise, please, someone has been murdered, and we need your help to rule you out as a suspect."

"Why should I care? I never did anything to that witch, I don't need to do anything."

"If you never killed her, why wouldn't you help us then? You have nothing to hide, do you?" Brass asked in the same mocking tone that had made many a thief confess.

She huffed, trying to find an excuse, but resigned herself. "Fine." She leaned back but kept her glare on Sara and Brass. She was definitely a diva.

"So, Miss Lopez, what was your relationship with Kristy Gating?" Brass started.

"I was her understudy. I don't know why. I'm so much more talented than her, and I look so much better." Sara bit her tongue to keep from laughing at her completely inexcusable behaviour and thoughts. She tasted the iron in her mouth as Louise continued. "I have to admit, Kristy was nice. She could put up with Ray's company, like, more than I can. I mean, he's such a loser dirt bag…I think he's a bit weird."

"And do you know what happened on the day she disappeared?" Brass added.

"I don't know. I left earlier than she did. She had to stay and act like her usual know-it-all self to Mr. Pathorn. Carlos waited up for her…he likes her for some reason, and not me, which is _so_ crazy, right?" She just received sceptical stares. "Anyways, Ray also stayed behind…I think he was putting props away."

Sara looked at Brass resignedly. "Thanks, Louise, you can go now." Louise nodded in return and as she left, she flipped open her cell phone in a mad fury. Sara sighed. "This is going to be a long day, isn't it?"

* * *

Meanwhile, Greg had meandered his way outside, following little clues that, now that he was looking for them, were jumping into view where once they were invisible. He stooped on the pavement on the side of the school, placing down a yellow marker and snapping another picture. He took the camera down from his face, and, squinting from the sunrays in his eyes, looked about at his surroundings. There wasn't much in the area, being the side of the school where it's garbage bins were stored and its supplies were brought. Greg looked at the ground, the path of tiny blood droplets leading to the large bin where all the schools garbage was stored until it could be collected later on in the week. Greg sighed at what was coming. He placed markers and snapped pictures of six more drops of blood, which he knew would lead him digging in the garbage bin. _'That's just my luck'_, he sighed as he lifted himself over the edge of the garbage bin and started rooting through the garbage. 

"Now, Raymond…" Brass started, but the boy interrupted him.

"Call me Ray." Was all he said. Ray, who was a tad short with an acne-ridden face, sat calmly at the table while talking with Sara and Brass. "Or better yet, call me Romeo. I'm better at being him."

"Uh…" Sara stuttered, but she quickly regained her composure. She was still trying to make sense of what he meant. "What do you know about Kristy Gating? How did she get along with anyone else?"

He smiled. "Ah," he muttered. A pause, and then, "A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet." Sara's jaw dropped, and Brass looked at him oddly. "Oh…a quote, I'm sure you must recognize it? It's one of the most famous of them all!"

Sara nodded. "Sure, yeah, I know it."

"Well, then you must know it's meaning. She was pretty, talented, kind. She was perfect. I certainly enjoyed her company. It's so depressing that this had to happen."

"So," Brass started, "Do you know if anything happened with her on the last day she was seen alive?"

He thought, and then lifting his head answered, "What? Umm…sorry, can you repeat the question?"

Sara pursed her lips. "I asked if you knew what Kristy Gating did here before she left for home on the day of her beating."

"Oh, right, sorry", Ray apologized quickly and gave a nervous chuckle and glanced about nervously. "I do believe that she had a fight with Carlos Pewter, her…boyfriend. I was sure that if Mr. Pathorn wasn't there, he'd have done something, but I did not stay long enough to find out. I left earlier than those two."

Sara and Brass looked at each other suspiciously, unbeknownst to Ray. Sara cleared her throat. "Uh, thanks, for your time Ray. Now, this man, right here, will take your prints. Thanks."

Ray nodded, and, before leaving, crowed, "Alas, Parting is such sweet sorrow."

Sara nodded once, and then, turning towards Brass, raised one eyebrow in her signature way. "Hey, are you noticing what I am?"

"That I need a serious refresher course in Shakespeare, or that I wish I listened to Gil when he spouted those useless quotes?"

She grinned. "No…didn't you notice that his story did not match with what Louise said? One of them is lying, and I bet the one who is lying is either hiding something, or…"

"Did the deed."

* * *

Greg muttered as some of the kids near him scrunched their noses in distaste of the odour that followed him as he traversed the back of the school, in a sprawling green field. Only a few teens in their free period were there, but still they seemed to notice him from smell before they saw him coming. _'Next time Sara searches the garbage.' _He thought, but it hadn't been in vain after all. Greg had found a bag of some sort, with blood on it. Greg had bagged it, and planned to fume it when he returned to the lab. He figured there had to be something on it. Also, there were crystals inside the bag, which he couldn't identify. The bag was unidentifiable through blood and being torn. 

Greg walked along the edge of the fence that separated the schoolyard from everything else. Beside the high wire fence, small shrubs grew between sparsely planted oak trees. Greg's interest was piqued when he saw tiny particles of pale yellow in the bright green of grass. Greg smiled, but silently cursed his luck. He bent down and, hoping not to walk into someone, followed the trail of particles and dust, taking documented pictures along the way, to a certain patch of bushes. Greg lowered the camera carefully from his face and slung it carefully across his shoulder. He carefully parted the small canopy of leaves that shaded the ground underneath, and revealed a small translucent orange bottle with a white cap.

He picked it up and spun the bottle about. He frowned when he saw that the half of the label that held the name of the owner had been torn. However, the name of the prescribing doctor was still there. Greg smiled and bagged it, and stood, straightening his back. He smiled. He was finished his search. Now all he had to do was go back into the school and locate Sara. The kids who put their shirts over their noses when he passed could not even quell Greg's enthusiasm at the clues he found.

* * *

"Please, come in." Sara tried coaxing in the young man who, while he did not cry, looked on the verge of breaking down. "We need you're help Carlos, to catch the guy who did this to your girlfriend." 

Carlos nodded, and solemnly made his way to the chair in front of the desk where Sara and Brass had been situated for the past four hours. He sat down, and Brass started the interrogation. "Now, Carlos, what was your relationship with Kristy Gating?"

Carlos bit his lip for a second, and replied bitterly, "You know that answer, and besides, why does it matter now?" He sighed. "She's gone, and I couldn't do a thing about it."

"You shouldn't blame yourself. I can relate to you. My boyfriend was nearly killed by being beaten." Brass's mouth twitched into a momentary smile hearing Sara talk about Greg. "But if you couldn't help her then, help her now, get justice for what happened. What happened on the day of her beating?"

"Umm…" Carlos started slowly, but as he remembered his words quickened. "Well, I had left Kristy and a few other kids to finish cleaning up from that day's practice so I could go home. I live right next to Kristy, and we usually take the path together, but she told me to go on ahead…" His voice broke, but he kept talking. "I went on home but halfway there, I realized I had forgotten something. On my way back to the school, I ran into her, and we spoke, but we both had to hurry, so I left…" He completely stopped and bit his lip once more.

"Is that the last time you saw her?" Sara asked softly, and at his nod, added, "What do you think the relationship between Louise, Ray, and Kristy is?"

He frowned. "Louise is always trying to go out with me, spreading rumours about Kristy. She's pathetic."

"And Ray?" Brass stated again.

"Ray was really creepy."

"Like how?" Sara asked.

"In a lot of ways. He was always caught talking to himself; he always seems confused, and fidgety. It wasn't as bad for a while, but in the past week or so, it's started again."

Sara finished her note taking. "Thanks, Carlos. You've been a big help. And I'm sorry for your loss."

Carlos nodded wordlessly, and left in the same way. Sara leaned the chair back on it's back legs and sighed. "Well, what are you thinking now?"

"I think I feel really bad for the Pewter kid. It's hard to lose someone close in high school, especially a girlfriend. And knowing it is possible someone in your school done it is worse."

"I know. He seems really shaken. I feel horrible."

"It's almost like the play, isn't it?" Brass said. "No matter what the two of them did, they won't be together. It's a rather crushing thought for a teenager."

Sara hesitated to speak, reflecting on the devastation she had felt whenever Greg had been in danger. So, she changed the subject. "What's next to do?"

"Sara!" Greg came bounding in to the room, startling the two of them in the chairs, Sara completely falling over backwards. "I got some good evidence, I think we've got this case done! Let's get back to the lab." Greg raced out of the room, and a second later returned. "Sara, get off the floor, we're on company time."

As Brass made to help Sara up, Greg could hear a menacing growl emanate from deep within her. "Sanders, you better seriously hope I don't catch you."

Greg smirked. "I hope you do." And Greg raced off in the direction of the parking lot, Sara hot on his trail and Brass slowly following them, smiling at the pair.

* * *

**Haha, yeah, this chapter SUCKS!!! Man, I am so not getting very creative...lol, or I'm quite possibly selling myself short because I want to start my new fic! Patience is a trait I do not have...stay frosty my readers, I'll try and have this one finished soon;)**


	6. Violent Delights Have Violent Ends

**Haha, okay, guess what? I'm not saying bad things about this chapter!!! I think that these last two chapters are the best work I've done...lol, lots of Sandleness...yay! Here ya go everyone:) Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I hope ye all enjoyed it (I'm sayin this now because the next chapter won't have any annoying banter from me...good for you:) Here ya go:D

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CHAPTER 6: VIOLENT DELIGHTS HAVE VIOLENT ENDS

For Brass, it was not a very relaxing drive home. Since Scoot had taken the company car Sara and Greg had arrived in, he had to drive the two very immature acting CSI's back to the lab. It wouldn't have been so bad; Sara had claimed shotgun, and Greg was forced into the back, so they couldn't inflict more bodily harm on each other than they had already done, (Sara had indeed caught up with Greg) but Greg had now taken to singing loudly to every song that came on the radio. "Greg for the love of fricken God will you stop!" Brass yelled, almost incoherently because of forgotten pauses where pauses should have been.

Greg stopped in the middle of his rendition of 'You Give Love A Bad Name', and looked like a reprimanded child. "You don't like my singing…?"

"NO!" Brass and Sara said at the same time, and then the three of them laughed to kill themselves.

Brass pulled into the Las Vegas Crime Lab a few minutes later, and said, "You two will be the end of me yet. No go on, I have other things to take care of."

Sara nodded, and both she and Greg said their thanks for the ride. They collected their evidence, and trekked into a spare room to log it all in. "So Sara," Greg started, "What did you find out?"

Sara never looked at him while she spoke. "Brass and I took their statements and prints, which, we have here, and we learned some interesting things. Louise is a witch, Carlos is devastated by his loss, and Ray is a creepy kid by everyone's standards." She turned her head. "What about you?" She paused. "What's that smell? I smelled it in the car too."

Greg gaped at her, aghast. "That's cruel! This is the price, Sara my dear, for finding great clues. Following blood evidence, I was lead to this," he held up the plastic bag, "which was covered in blood and, unfortunately, stuffed in a garbage bin."

Sara burst out in laughter at his misadventures, and Greg, having his pride besmirched, started filing out more evidence in silence. After her fit had subsided, she wiped away tears and added, "What else did you find?"

"Well, as I was about to say before you were incapacitated," He began again, "I also checked out the back schoolyard, and I found trace amounts of this," he showed her the dust and particles, "And this is what it came from, I think." He showed her the pill bottle.

"Hmm?" Sara took the pill bottle from Greg and looked at it more closely. "A prescription for…ugh, something. The labels torn. All I can make out is the doctor name." Sara read off the label. "Get this to Hodges, get some trace off of it. This may very well crack this case wide open."

"Will do, captain." Greg raced off with the pill bottle, and a mere few minutes later, returned. "Okay, so, what do we do now?"

Sara finished putting a label on the last piece of evidence. "Well, I'll take these prints to the lab, and the plastic to be fumed for prints, and you take the swabs to Mia, and I suppose we wait until we hear word."

Greg seemed happy with that response. He took his share and headed towards DNA, while Sara headed to the print lab. Greg spoke with Mia, talking to her like his usual fun-loving self, for a while before he left her to do her work. He walked along the halls and took in all that was happening around him. The halls, forever tinted with it's eerie blue, distorted the colours of faces unless you looked into one of the many halls that was lit with clear fluorescent energy-saving lights. There, people were hard at work pouring their energies trying to find something in crime scene photos or performing experiments to prove or disprove their point. Also, there was some things that he could do without on the job. In his office, Conrad Ecklie sat at his desk, talking leisurely with Charlie Scoot, seemingly doing work. Greg turned his head and saw a pair of officers leading a struggling convict out of the lab, where he had, Greg assumed, been proven or pleaded guilty. Behind him, another officer gently led a woman crying heavily towards the exit. Greg turned again, saddened by the woman. _'A victory for us seemed like a loss for someone,'_ Greg thought, and as soon as the glum thoughts entered his head, they disappeared when he saw Sara sat at the table, sipping on a bottle of water and eating a veggie burger delicately.

She looked up, and gave an intrigued smile. "What's on your mind Sanders?" Her gap-tooth showed, part of her distinctive charm. Greg smiled in return. "Anything you want to share?"

Greg sat himself down to the table, to where Sara had a burger laid out for him. Sara always had something for him to eat, and he appreciated it. He took a bite, swallowed, and said, "How bad do you want to know?"

Sara shrugged and also took another bite. "Depends." She chewed thoughtfully. "You seemed really entranced when you walked in here. Never even commented on how my burger smells like rubber."

Greg chuckled, and also smiled widely, showing off his nice teeth. It made Sara tingle inside. "I thought I'd let you go today, and besides, it doesn't smell and taste like rubber, Sara my lover, but human soup."

Sara scrunched her nose in disgust. "Greg, that's disgusting! I am eating here. I have to deal with that enough on the job. How would you even know what it tastes like?"

Greg shook his head in memory. "Don't you remember, when we had those two bodies in the truck of that car? Trust me, I had more of a taste that I wanted to."

Sara grimaced. "Ick. I remember, you cannibal. No, I can't imagine that it would taste very good." She popped the last of her burger in her mouth.

Greg laughed, and he got up and sat himself down on the couch. He had wolfed down his burger and water, and now beckoned for her to join him on the couch. She smiled and obligingly agreed. She sat down, and leaned against Greg's shoulder, where he wrapped his arm about hers. She yawned. "Tired hon?"

She nodded. "Yeah, a little. I had four hours of interrogation. That'll do that to a person."

Greg chuckled. "Then sleep. I'll let you know when we have results. I think I sweet talked Mia into running ours through first."

Sara looked up at him. "What, did you use that lame pick-up line about being pulled over by a cop because you have 'fine' written all over you?"

"Don't knock it Sara. It's a great pick-up line! It just takes someone suave like me to pull it off." Greg could feel her vibrate from laughing at him, and that made him feel happy himself. However, he did not hear her reply, for she was soon fast asleep next to Greg.

* * *

Sara never liked to be caught off guard, which is why she had swatted protectively when an unsuspecting Greg was prodding her in the side. She came to her senses when he heard Greg groan and curse. "…Mmm? Greg?" Sara mumbled as she sat up.

"Damn it Sara," Greg said as he rubbed the side of his face tenderly. "I never knew you were such a horrible morning person."

"Greg?" Sara said as Greg sat back down again. She took his hand away and saw three lines where her fingernails had driven into his cheek. She turned red. "Oops." Greg looked at her. "Hey, I'm sorry. At least you know I can protect myself?" She offered, grinning wildly.

It never took very long for Greg to return the smile. "Welcome to the land of the conscious, Sleeping Sara. We've got another case."

Sara looked at him. "What? We're already in a fully active investigation already."

Greg shrugged at her. "I know, but Brass said that we'd better get there. Come on."

"Ugh…Greg." Sara whined as Greg grabbed her arm and helped her up, "What about the stuff from the Gating case? Any news?"

"Nope." Greg started walking, her in tow, towards the locker room. When they got there, he added, "Both Mia and Hodges did say that they would have our results within the next few hours. You do know that you were out for nearly five hours?"

Sara stopped in her tracks. "Five…hours. Greg, why didn't you wake me?"

"Because you looked so darn gorgeous." Sara did not smile back, however, and Greg quickly lost his grin. "You shouldn't complain. Nothing happened, no one saw us except Catherine, and you certainly needed the sleep by the way you snored."

Sara now glared at Greg. "Snored? Me?" Sara was almost in a fit. "I do not snore Greg Sanders!"

"How would you know?"

"I…" Greg's innocent question stopped her in her tracks, and at seeing his face, smug and suppressing a laugh, made her rage even more. She sputtered incoherently, but after only a second, she let out a small giggle, and then the both of them were laughing uncontrollably again.

Poor, unfortunate Warrick, after working a double shift, had the great pleasure of seeing them doubled up on the floor, laughing to kill themselves. "I got to stop meting you two like this." He muttered as he grabbed his coat and sat on the bench to lace up his shoes.

Greg got up and wiped tears from his eyes. "Okay, okay, we'll stop. We supposedly have this important place we've got to get to anyways." Sara got up too, and followed Greg out. "Bye Warrick. Get some rest. And lighten up."

Warrick tried to say something in his defence, but Sara and Greg had already fled. Then, as they passed Charlie's office, they quieted again; knowing not that it was empty. They went to their vehicle, and they drove to the address Greg had been given. Sara had not seen the address, but when Greg handed it over to her, she noticed the familiarity. "Uh, Greg, doesn't this address seem…odd?"

"Nope." He said, but then looked at her face, contorted in thought. "Why? What are you seeing?"

"Isn't this the address where Kristy Gating was beat?"

"What? Are you sure?" Greg asked, bewildered at the connection. Sara read the address out to him, and he cursed himself. "Why didn't I see it?"

"You don't think it has any connection to our case?" Sara asked.

"It must." Greg said, staring forward at the road in front of him. "Why else would they call us?"

Sara nodded in affirmation of Greg's statement, and looked out the side of the car. She was still a bit lazy from just waking up, and the houses that whizzed past seemed just a blur of the same cream colours. She was just starting to doze again when Greg poked her. "We're here."

Sara nodded, and forced herself to get out of the car and stretch. She looked about. Everything seemed too familiar. The park, the lonely swings, the scent of trees surrounding them, the police sirens, and the sight of a dead body. This time there were two. Sara walked up to where Greg and Jim Brass were already talking.

"There's no doubt that it's related to the Gatings case." Greg said, sensing the presence of Sara behind him.

"This time, I think we have a murder-suicide." Brass said, looking again at the bodies, too covered by twilight shadows to see clearly. "Both died from stab wounds. One kid is holding a rusted knife, meaning he is probably the one who did the stabbing. I say that there is little chance of a third party."

"Who're are DB's?" Sara asked, flicking on her flashlight and making her way closer. She saw the faces of the two bodies she was just talking to hours previous. She gasped, and her knowledge was made certain by Brass.

"Raymond Therst and our supposed shooter, Carlos Pewter."

"Uh oh." Greg walked up next to Sara. "What does this mean for our other case?"

"Umm…" Sara tried to put her thoughts together. "I suppose we wait for evidence from our other case to come in. Then we work on it. For now, we collect for this case...if we're even needed at all."

Greg looked at her as she pulled a letter from Carlos' front pocket. "What do you have?"

Sara answered by opening the letter carefully, and she started to recite. "Oh happy dagger, this is thy sheath, there rust and let me die."

Greg shivered. "That's part of the play. That's Juliet's part when she stabs herself…"

"To be with her true love." Sara stood up and Greg lifted his flashlight so she could read the rest. "The rest goes off script. 'Not before I do away with the one who has taken you away from me in this world. I shall deal with him swiftly, and join you once again.'"

"Brutal." Greg said after silence permeated the area for a few minutes. "He killed himself, for the idea of true love? He gave up his whole life for one person he didn't know he would be together with forever."

Sara hummed in thought. "You don't believe in true love then?"

"I don't know." Greg said as his pager went off. "I also don't know how Carlos knew that Ray was the guy we're after?"

Greg walked off to see the pager. "Call it intuition." Sara said walking after him. "What is it?"

"He did know." Was all Greg said. "Sara, are you okay here? Get Nick to help you. I have to get back to the lab. I know what happened. Actually, this was a big clue in our other investigation." He grinned while phoning Nick to come help. "See you back a the lab!" He called out to Sara as he ran, leaving Sara alone, more confused than ever.

* * *

When Sara and Nick returned exhausted, they met Greg in the break room, staring lethargically into a cup of coffee, letting the steam sift slowly by him. Their shuffled footsteps alerted him that they were here, and his face brightened when they walked in. "Hey Sara, Nick."

"Greg, why did you leave like that?" Sara had a hint of hurt in her voice, and it never went unnoticed.

"Sara, don't worry, I had a reason. Remember my pager went off?" Sara nodded, and as she and Nick sat down, he started again. "Well, it was Hodges. He gave me a result on my pill bottle. It was chlorprothixene, or Taractan. It's a medication for Schizophrenia."

"What?" Nick asked. Sara had informed him of their case at the crime scene. "Who was it prescribed to?"

"I phoned the clinic where the doctor listed on the prescription works, and she said that an interesting patient of hers was one Raymond Therst." Greg smiled proudly.

"If Ray was a schizophrenic," Sara said, "then he would be fidgety, nervous, paranoid, and would appear confused." Images of Raymond Therst entered her head, of the interrogation. He was all of those things…confused, fidgety…it made sense.

"Exactly." Said Greg, "And also, another symptom of schizophrenia is that you cannot tell reality from fiction. If he thought that Romeo and Juliet was reality, and that he couldn't make Juliet fall in love with him…"

"He'd try and get a new Juliet to do it." Nick finished his sentence. "Man, that's twisted, are you sure that could've happened?"

"Almost positive. The evidence tells me so." Greg then opened the folder of findings he had placed at the table. "Look. The trace I found at the crime scene is beef jerky. The same beef jerky wrapping was found in the dumpster, with Ray's fingerprints and epithelials all over it."

"Puts him at the scene. What about the shoe impression?"

"I don't know, we don't have a comparison."

Nick rose. "I'll rescue that shoe and do that. I think we've got him though. Nice job guys."

He retreated to get the shoes, leaving Greg and Sara alone again. Sara was still mulling over the unanswered question. "Greg?"

"Mmm-hmm?" Greg managed to say, his mouth full of coffee.

"What do you really think? About true love, I mean. Do you or do you not believe in it?"

"That's a rough question." He said earnestly, placing his head in his hands. He took a while before answering, each word taking some thought. "If you asked me a year ago, I would say no. I was young, and single, and had my heart broken a few times by girls who I thought were the one. When those relationships were over, I came to work here, and it hardened me even more. I never even knew what love was anymore. That's what happens when all you see is a bunch of dead bodies all day."

He stopped long enough for Sara to ask, "And now?"

He looked at her and, raising his head, took her hands in his. "And now I would have to throw my previous thoughts out the window. I knew there was true love when I saw this brunette in my place of work. She was like me, in a very depressing job, been in a few bad relationships, and she was the most beautiful creature I ever saw in my life."

Sara smiled at his sweetness. "Even prettier than those girls in your magazine?"

"Can't even compare." He paused, and then he turned away. "Well, there's my answer. You owe me, because that's the corniest I've ever been in my life."

Sara stiffened. "Does that mean you didn't mean it?"

Greg shot back up. "I meant every word. You're special and you should know that. I would never, never, admit those things to just anyone. You just bring out the best in me." He added with a grin. "And what about you, Sara Sidle? Do you believe?"

Sara squeezed his hands. "I'm not quite sure. I think that there is someone for everyone out there. It just takes a lot of luck to find that one special person." Greg nodded, mulling over what she said. "I guess I'm very, very lucky."

Greg looked over her way and met her lips. He deepened the kiss. Footsteps made them stop as fast as they had started. "Me too."

The footsteps passed, and Sara started to speak again. "I'm kind of shocked about our case."

"What for?"

"I just…it seems too ironic that things happened so closely to Romeo and Juliet, and that they were in the play."

" 'For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.'" Greg quipped. "I guess old Billy Shakespeare knew what he was talking about."

"Maybe." Sara said. "Remind me to never see another Shakespeare play, okay Greg?"

Greg saluted. "Will do captain." Sara gave him a playful sock in the arm. They then returned to their usual playful banter for about twenty minutes when Nick came back. "I got the results. It's a match. We have Kristy's killer."

"Too bad he's dead." Sara said.

"Umm, I know death isn't good, but alls well than ends well. He was unstable. I still don't understand why his parents weren't taking better care of him, knowing his condition."

"We'll never know." Sara said, and she got up. "God, I need to get home. I'm dropping. Shift was over an hour ago anyways."

"Lucky you Sara," Nick said, pointing to his watch. "I'm hot in the middle of helping Catherine too, before I was called to you. I've been put on, 'assisting duty', by that Jackass Charlie Scoot. Luckily he's gone soon."

"Really?" Greg said hopefully, "When? Oops, no, I mean…no, forget being nice, when?"

"Tomorrow morning." Nick said, and laughed when he saw Sara and Greg's faces brighten. "He says he needs to get home, but I know Grissom said something to him. Catherine is finally being allowed to take over position until Grissom comes home."

Greg laughed in pure happiness. "Yes! This is awesome!" He took Sara up by the waist and twirled her about. "Aren't you happy?"

"I'd be happier if I could breathe," She rasped, and Greg let her down looking sheepish. "Yes, I am glad that pig will be gone. The safer we'll all be when he is."

"Well, we'll be home when he leaves, so good luck Nick," Greg said as he left with Sara to go to the locker room. "See you tomorrow night in happier times."


	7. Or Do They?

**CHAPTER 7:…OR DO THEY?**

"Greg, you look exhausted." Sara said to him as they drove home. Sara had asked Greg to pick her up, since she had gone on a rant about how taking two cars was a waste on gas. "Really, do you think you can make it home?"

Greg attempted to suppress a yawn, but failed. "I'll be fine Sara. You look just as tired."

"Yeah, but I'm not driving. No, that's it," She said as he parked at her apartment building. "You're coming to stay with me."

"Sara, come on, I'm…" Sara growled and glared menacingly at Greg. "_happy _you asked me to stay, and wouldn't turn down your invitation even if you asked." Greg gave a very fake smile and made Sara laugh.

"Come on you clown. We need some sleep." She got out, and the two of them made their way to main entry door, arms linked.

"Oh, wait Sara," Greg said almost at the building, "I forgot my clothes. I'll only be a sec."

"Okay. I'll have the door opened by then." She said, and she continued her way while Greg jogged slowly to his vehicle again. She smiled, and went to her floor. She turned the corner and went to her door. She stuck the keys in the lock and turned, and was halfway between a curse and a laugh when the key expectedly got stuck. It was that way since she got the place. _'Mental note, new lock and key'_ She said to herself. She felt someone behind her. "Help me with this, will you? You're a big strong man." The door clicked as she said this. She shook her head.

"I know." Sara bolted straight up, when she felt a strong arm whip her around to face the man behind her. "Strong enough so that you cannot resist me."

Sara made to run, but her wrists had been grabbed, and now she was helplessly pinned against her wall near her door. Thoughts of screaming were lost on Sara, but not those of fighting back. She thrashed and kicked, but her body was pushed against the wall. Now she was scared, her heart pounding madly, her mind racing as she thought of a plan. "What do you want? Let me go!"

His smile was one of delight. His eyes sunken back, double chin jutted out as he laughed. The sight of Charlie Scoot disgusted her, and now frightened her to no end. "Struggle girl, it's a welcome change to the other women." He licked his lips for emphasis.

That was something she did not want to hear. He foreshadowed something Sara never wanted to be. No, not a rape victim. That wasn't it. Injury was something that never really frightened her. It was the possibility of being controlled. That was what she was afraid of the most.

She struggled more, but was met only by laughter. Sara started to feel more exhausted, helpless, which was what he wanted. She felt like she was struggling to stay afloat in deep water, exhaustion from struggling overtaking her, making her limbs feel like deadweight. Charlie reached for the door handle, and she could not do anything. She was underwater, with no hope in sight of seeing the surface again.

It hardly registered when she slumped against the wall, the grip against her wrists and pressure against her body lifted. While her body was numb, her mind was clear, and her heart jumped when Charlie gave Greg a solid jab to the shoulder. However, Charlie's size wasn't enough to overpower Greg's youth, especially added to the fury with which Greg threw punches. In just a minute, he had succeeded in bloodying up the nose, and creating places on Charlie's face that would certainly bruise.

Now, all three of them were on the floor. Scoot, a bloodied mess of lost pride, Sara, who was still shaking and felt like jelly, and Greg, who was at her side, helping her to stand. "You bastard." Greg's voice was low, but potent as it sent Scoot standing and ready to flee at a moments notice. "Leave Las Vegas, never return, and if you do, make sure I _never_ see you again. I will make sure that you never hurt us again." Scoot fled the hallway like a dog with its tail between its legs. Then, as soon as it had come, all anger left Greg as he turned to Sara. "Sara?" He asked, and when Sara turned her head to him, he felt relief wash over him. "Are you okay? Did he…?"

"Oh, no." Sara reassured him. "He never got that far, thanks to you." She paused and, with the events that took place in just a few minutes finally registering with her, she sobbed. "Let's just get in the apartment."

"Okay." Greg didn't press further. She wasn't ready just yet. Knowing Sara, she wouldn't be ready for a long while, even granting their relationship. This may just be a reason for Sara to break it off with him. Why did other men always have to do this and ruin everything for the good ones? He opened the door, and when he saw Sara struggling to stand, he picked her up and brought her in.

She still sobbed, but never shed any tears. She was just stressed and tired. "Greg? Please…I need your help for something."

"Anything. What do you need?" Greg asked tenderly, still cradling her in his arms.

"I'm still too weak to try anything on my own…my arms and legs feel like jelly." She sighed, the released air even sounding tired. "I'm really in desperate need of a shower, but a bath will have to do…can you…?"

"Sure. Just hold on for a sec." He laid her down on her couch, made sure she was comfortable, and ran off in the direction of her bathroom. The next thing she knew was the sound of water as it splashed into the bottom of her bathtub. She listened to it, anticipation for the feeling of heat as it enveloped her body. Anything to stop the ache that had developed in her limbs and torso from the struggle.

Greg stepped out for a second and retrieved something from the kitchen, but Sara was too sore to check what it was. A few minutes later Greg came back out. "Ready?" He asked.

"Yeah." She replied, and almost effortlessly, he picked her up again and brought her to the bathroom. Then a thought occurred to her. "Um, Greg? How am I supposed to get undressed and into the tub if I can't even stand up?"

Greg smiled. "Got it covered. I've thought of everything." He brought her into the bathroom, which was already warm with steam. A glass of cool juice was laid on the stand next to the tub, and a chair was laid next to the tub. He placed her on the chair. "Okay, if you can manage now, I'll be in the living room, so give a shout if you need me."

He made to leave. "Greg wait." He stopped and looked at her, and his heart went out to her. She looked the most vulnerable she had in a long time sitting there, not able to even stand. She was, however, smiling. "Thank you, so much. You have no idea what this means to me. I mean, what may have happened if you hadn't come…"

"It was lucky that you convinced me to stay over."

"Don't say that. You're just amazing. Don't ever forget that."

Greg smiled. "I won't. Remember that I'm just out here if you need me."

Sara nodded, and when he left, she laboriously shed her clothes, and with patient work, lowered herself into the water. Greg had worked wonders. The temperature was just right, the water level was just right, and the little bath side radio was on just the right volume and station. She sighed in relaxation as the heat worked itself into her aching muscles. Sara lowered herself further into the water, until only her nose and head bobbed in the water.

Meanwhile, Greg was boiling the kettle, getting himself a cup of tea. No, not coffee, tea. He didn't need anything to keep him awake any longer. Tea always calmed him down. He needed it. His knuckles had bruised from the beating he had given Scoot, and his shoulder throbbed from where he had been slugged. He let the water steep, added his sugar and milk, and made himself comfortable on the couch, his bed for the time being. He turned on the T.V., and just as he was getting into an episode of Gilligan's Island reruns, he heard Sara call out. In an instant, Greg bolted up and into the bathroom, careful to close his eyes and not run into anything. "Sara?" He asked worriedly, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She said, chuckling at his over-protectiveness. "I need some help."

"With what?" He asked, coming nearer to her, feeling his way about. He heard splashing, and felt his hand connect with hers. She dragged him closer.

"My arms aren't up to the task of washing my hair. Can you do it?"

Greg gulped, and felt his face redden. "Umm…yeah, um, sure, yeah…uh, how can I do that if I can't see?"

He heard Sara laugh and he felt more heat rise to his cheeks. "You can look you know. I'll just tuck in my knees, and then your vision will be slightly blocked. Just don't go looking for anything." More heat rose to his cheeks to the point he felt like he would start spouting steam himself.

"Okay then, sure, but that's not fair." He added, his flirty side returning a bit in light of the situation. "You've seen me before." Sara whistled, and the heat rose yet again. He took the chair and seated himself directly behind Sara. "Where's the shampoo?"

"Over there." Sara pointed to the stand where the empty glass once housing her juice lay. "The green bottle."

Greg nodded, and reached for the bottle. He popped it open, and squeezed out some aqua green gel. It had a particular fruity scent; one that Sara always seemed to have. He smelled it that day when he was beaten. It was how he knew she was there for him. _'Smell is the sense that the memory familiarizes itself with most'_, said a voice in his head. Must be Grissom. He rubbed it between his palms, and then started massaging it into her hair. She groaned, and he hesitated.

"No, don't stop Greg." Sara said, feeling him pause. "You have no idea how good that feels." Greg started once again, lathering it in through her hair, massaging her scalp gently, slowly. After five minutes, he stopped, and rose.

"You need any help with washing it out?"

Sara shook her head. "No, I can manage that." She sighed longingly. "God that felt good. You're good at that, you know? Remind me to get you to play with my hair later on."

"I'll remind you to let me." Greg said with a smirk. And then he left. "Let me know if you need any help getting out."

"Okay. Thanks again Greg." Sara said.

Greg left again. _'What has that girl done to me?' _He thought with a smirk as he settled down on the couch once again, exhaustion once again settling down on him like a blanket. Only about five minutes later, Sara emerged from the bathroom, slowly, still trying to get her muscles to cooperate with her. A small towel was wrapped about her hair and body, reaching only from under her arms to the upper part of her thighs.

"Greg?" He turned his head and she smiled when she saw his face when his eyes landed on her. "I'm gone to bed. There are blankets and pillows in the hall closet. Okay?" All he did was nod. "Goodnight." Another nod. She chuckled and went into the room.

Greg was still trying to calm himself down when he settled down ten minutes later onto the couch. He had a pair of pyjama pants on, but the temperature inside the apartment was higher due to the steam still present from Sara's bath, so he went shirtless. He stretched himself out onto the couch, and letting the artificial darkness caused from blinds cover him, he started to doze. That is, until he heard Sara call his name again. He rose and went to the bedroom where she was already curled into a blanket. "Sara? Is anything wrong?"

"Yeah, there is." She said.

"What's wrong?"

"You're not in bed with me."

Greg nearly choked on his own breath. "Excuse me?"

Sara rose to her elbows, and smiled. She had a spaghetti string tank top on, from what he could see. "You don't need to sleep on the couch like a bad dog. My bed is plenty big. Plus," She added more quietly, "I need some company right now."

Greg smiled too, and nodded. He walked over to the bed and, careful not to crush any of the woman under him, crawled to the other side of her. He made himself comfortable under the covers. His mind was reeling. She wasn't closing him out like he thought she would after the incident. She was bringing him closer? He smiled, and turned to his back. The bed was a lot more comfortable than the couch, and he soon found himself dozing. But not before Sara snuggled up to him, her head nosing its way into the crook of his head and neck, and her hand laid tenderly upon his chest. He breathed a bit heavier with the sensation of her touch on his skin, but it was welcome. He brought his arm about her head, letting it fall on her cool shoulder, where he rubbed it comforting, warming it with the friction of his hands. He felt her breath on him. And then those three precious words, the ones he'll never forget her saying for the first time.

"I love you too, Sara." He whispered back, but both were too tired to return passion as they both fell into deep sleep filled with dreams of what the future could hold.

**The End**

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**Hehe, see? Proud of myself...that's the best Sandleness I have ever come up with, I thought it was cute:) Anyways, I hope ya enjoyed it...I'm going on hiatus for a week while midterms happen...and I'm working on a huge project...a whole plot plus characters? It's an interesting concept, coming live to FictionPress...soon...hopefully? Haha...we'll see...til next time folks;)**


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